


Dogged Steps

by Gnine



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, You Decide, because really, hurt!prompto, if you've come to expect nothing else from me...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23510305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnine/pseuds/Gnine
Summary: Prompto injured, Gladio and Ignis unreachable and the Empire closing in. They've had better days.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 119
Kudos: 269





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I may be coping in these trying times by being unapologetically self-indulgent: and by that I mean, let's do terrible things to Prompto and have Noct have to take care of him because apparently I'm never going to tire of that XD

Opening his eyes took monumental effort. Effort barely worth the reward when indistinguishable blurriness was all that replaced the blackness. Prompto considered giving up—at least the darkness hadn't made his head throb unbearably—when what he had to assume was a face swam into view.

Squinting, he concluded with roughly eighty percent certainty that it was Noct scowling down at him. Which likely meant it was also Noct's hand clutching his own, just this side of painfully.

Prompto groaned. Thought about sitting up. Got far enough to shift the edge of the blanket a fraction. Rethought the whole sitting up thing. Or moving. Or breathing, as even that elicited objections—loud, unignorably excruciating objections —from every quarter.

"S-so, anyone get the number of the…w-whatever it was that hit me?"

Noct grunted, unimpressed. Prompto couldn't blame him. The gravelly, barely-there whisper _had_ to be his own—else they'd acquired a crazily accurate mind reader. But Prompto'd intended a bit more— _any,_ really —volume in the delivery.

"A dualhorn," Noct replied anyway. Even if it wasn't an answer Prompto hoped to hear. "So no number. Didn't get any of the horns, either."

Well…shit. No horns, no bounty. Which had been the entire point.

Exploring Daurell Caverns had proved far more difficult than expected. Ignis had had a close call with a necromancer and the iron giant lurking in the depths had scored a couple good hits on all of them. But ultimately an insistent band of goblins hounding them the entire time, stealing precious supplies left and right before scurrying back into the darkness, had proved their true undoing. They’d emerged bruised, battered and dangerously low on inventory without even the acquisition of a royal arms to show for it.

Taking on a hunt to have funds enough for a restock had seemed the best option. In hindsight…

"Seriously, Prom, what were you thinking?!" Noct erupted. The hold on Prompto's hand disappeared. The sound of a chair scraping against linoleum, sudden footfalls suggested Noct was up and pacing. Eyes not up to the task of focusing on anything further than a hands breadth away, Prompto stopped bothering to keep them open. But he'd seen it enough times previous to picture Noct's expression easily.

"T-thinking we were 'bout out of curatives 'n you were gonna be trampled."

"So you thought it was better if _you_ got trampled?"

Prompto started to nod, thought better of it. "Mnhmn."

Noct's growl was strangely reminiscent of a coeurl about to pounce. "You know, there's these things called guns. You may have heard of them. In fact, I believe you're _ridiculously proficient_ with them. They're meant to be used _from a distance!_ "

Prompto was really wishing the room would stop spinning. He was lying down — _eyes closed_! —for Astrals' sake. He didn't remember buying a ticket for a tilt-a-whirl, and they were a _long_ way from the nearest Chocoboland.

It took two swallows before he was confident in opening his mouth and having only words spew out. "Bullets weren't cutting it. We were out of time, I m-made a call. A _call_ —" Prompto pushed on, overriding Noct's argument before he got the first syllable out, "that's my _duty_ to make. Right there in the name even, 'member?"

" _Crowns_ —that's you —" Prompto managed to flick a finger in the general direction he guessed Noct was from all the huffs and grumbles. Twitched it back around to indicate himself. " — _Guard_. We protect you. With weapons, yeah, but with ourselves if necessary."

Noct's derisive snort was eloquent in its brevity.

"Aaand," Prompto pushed on, dragging out his trump card with the last of his flagging strength, "Gladio and Ignis back me on this."

He remembered that, at least, from the few flashes of their hasty retreat. Gladio's quiet, "Good job," felt more than heard with Prompto's head cradled against his chest. Ignis's soft noise of agreement as he broke their last potion over Prompto. Everything else had gotten pretty hazy after that, but the words had cushioned his fall into unconsciousness enough to stick with Prompto even now.

Noct's sullen silence signaled victory, however temporary.

"Where are they, anyway?" Prompto began. Had to swallow, attempt to clear his raw throat before getting the next question out. "Where're _we,_ for that matter?"

"Taelpar. Some hunters converted part of the motel into a field clinic." The louder reply and slight sinking of the mattress indicated Noct had come nearer again. A moment later Prompto felt a hand sliding under his neck, supporting his head carefully, followed by the press of a straw against his lips. He sucked the water down eagerly; room temperature and vaguely stale but right now he'd take it, and happily.

"Slowly," Noct admonished before going on, tone still brusque for all that his grip was overly gentle, "They agreed to treat you on credit. S'not like you can easily skip out like this. But all other supplies were a no-go 'til we could pay up. There was a group putting together a big hunt, Gladio and Ignis signed on. Good money, even split, should be more than enough. Six knows we need it."

Couldn't argue there. Only…

"Why didn’t you go with them?"

Noct’s quiet was pointed, almost menacing. Prompto grimaced.

"Lemme rephrase, you _should_ a gone with them." Staying in one place for too long was risky. Tempting fate and possible discovery. Doing so without Gladio or Ignis around…"How far out are they? You go and I’ll catch up when —"

"Prom, want to know how close you came to dying?" The inquiry sounded almost casual, but for the note of brittle steel edging each word.

The relief the water had provided moments earlier evaporated, his mouth bone-dry again. "Um…probably not?"

"Yeah, neither did I. Ever. And yet… So, here we are. And here I’m staying."

Prompto knew that tone. They all knew that tone. Case closed. Swallowing down the further arguments along with the next sip of water, Prompto acknowledged defeat. Hard to convince Noct when he couldn't convince his own body to stay awake. "Well...ah, guess we should try—" A yawn broke off his words. Even _that_ hurt right now. No fair. " —and get comfortable then, huh?"

******

"Prompto!"

Prompto jolted awake to a hiss in his ear, a hand over his mouth. Instincts overriding thought, he tensed to spring up, only to encounter resistance in the form of an arm pinning him.

Noct’s arm—and Noct’s voice, soft but urgent. "Slowly." A wise suggestion. Even the aborted motion had set every nerve screaming. "And quietly."

Catching his glance, Noct repeated the ‘quietly’ before easing his hand away. Despite the low light, the panic in Noct’s eyes was unsettlingly clear.

"Noct? What'n Ifrit's hells?" Prompto had to fight to maintain a whisper, rising alarm arousing a rise in volume. "Are you—fuuck!" He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in order to muffle the yelp. Regardless of what Noct may have been thinking, Prompto’s body had decidedly _not_ signed off on an attempt to sit up.

"Astrals, sorry!" Noct's hasty apology didn't, regrettably, halt his hands. Guiding a still-panting Prompto to a semi-sitting slump against his side, Noct turned to fiddle with the IV in Prompto's arm.

"D-dude?" Prompto dragged in a few ragged breaths, squeezing his eyes shut against the extreme vertigo. Forced them open again. "Seriously, what's going on?" Noct had fallen to his knees to jam first one of Prompto's bare feet, then the other, into his boots.

"Imperial troops." Short, sweet and oh-so-screwed.

"Here?" Prompto managed to turn the squawk into a more whispered squeak.

"On their way."

Handing over jacket and phone from the bedside chair, Noct scowled down at the scrubs Prompto was wearing. His shirt and pants had apparently been a lost. He had a change in the car, but no one had grabbed it before Gladio and Ignis departed, taking the Regalia with them. Nothing to be done for it now.

"Shit, shiiit —" Prompto moaned as he scrambled to disentangle himself from the sheets. Flinched as the flailing motions did little more that stir a swell of pain. One dizzying moment later, adrenaline kicked in, proving once more the tried and true painkiller.

But it could only do so much. As he found out upon gaining his feet only to have his leg immediately give out. Noct's quick lunge kept him from face-planting, but only just. Prompto's head thudded atop Noct's shoulder, the placement conveniently muffling his impossible-to-stifle groan.

Prompto thought Noct might be apologizing again, couldn't be sure over the rushing in his ears. Right, things to remember: a leg recently gored by a dualhorn? Not, in fact, weight-bearing. Noct reached the same conclusion, slinging one of Prompto's arm's over his shoulder, tucking in close for support.

"H-how—" Prompto had to swallow another cry as they began shuffling forward, a mockery of a three-legged race. "How do you know?"

"Haven't been as subtle —or as accepted —as we'd hoped. Or our bounty's just gotten that high. Overheard two hunters talking. They'd already made the call."

"W-wait, _hunters_?! Gladio and Iggy, the group they went out with—?"

"Don't know…but neither of them is answering calls or text."

Prompto was trying to formulate a good response— _any_ response—to that ominous implication when their location registered. Noct had brought them to a halt by the room's sole, small window, slid it open the handbreadth it'd allow. No way they were getting through that. Not to mention they were on the second floor—

"Astrals!" Prompto swore again as he realized Noct's intention.

They'd still been in high school when Noct really got a handle on warping. It hadn't taken them long to wonder if it was feasible for him to bring someone else along.

The conclusion was yes — _technically_. Comfortably, however, was a far different story. Noct, the bastard, had been mostly fine, just more drained for such a short distance. Prompto had immediately lost his lunch and the raging headache and nausea had lasted several days.

The few other times they'd tried, Noct's growing expertise had vaguely improved the overall experience, but it had never become pleasant or particularly recommended. Saved for extenuating circumstances only.

Which, now, unfortunately, definitely qualified as.

"Sorry," Noct muttered for the umpteenth time. "Spotted lookouts at both exits. Only way we're getting out of here undetected."

Prompto nodded, adjusted his grip even tighter around Noct's shoulder. Braced as Noct heaved the summoned dagger with a magically enhanced toss.

The sudden _tug,_ followed by the instantaneous, never-ending moment of total loss of sensation, and the dim white walls of the clinic were replaced by the deep shadows of overhanging trees. The lights of the outpost now behind them were just a faint glow through the underbrush.

Prompto was grateful he'd managed little more than water earlier when they'd brought dinner. Even that was a battle to keep down. One he lost a moment later as he sagged, dragging them both down to their knees.

Noct kept him mostly upright while he heaved, rubbed his back in slow circles. Prompto forced his breathing even, took a shallower-than-he-wanted breath on account of screaming ribs and finally looked up. He could see how alert Noct remained, gaze darting all around them.

Noct met his gaze, brow furrowed. "Okay?"

He grimaced, negated the question before Prompto could even begin to formulate a response. "Right, obvious answer. Just take a moment." Noct rose while he spoke, one hand staying on Prompto's shoulder to prevent him from following.

"I saw some chocobos earlier, probably the hunters' birds." Their own rental period had expired while they were still exploring the caverns. "Stay here, catch your breath, I'll be right back—"

"Noct, wait—" Prompto dove, just managed to snag the hem of Noct's jacket. Small reward for the stab of pain that shot up his side, from knee to jaw. Left his eyes watering and no air to further the argument.

The noise that slipped through his clenched jaw was enough to have Noct spinning back to once more crouch at his side though. So…win? Work with what he had.

"It's t-to…" Prompto gritted his teeth, breathed through his nose. "Too risky. You need to—"

Noct frowned. "Prom, you can't go far on foot and I can't carry you any distance. Our best bet—"

" _Your_ best bet is to just go. Now. G-get as far away as you can, ASAP…"

Noct was shaking his head, the mulish set to his jaw all too familiar. All too frustrating. "No. No way. What, just leave you behind? Then they'll have a hostage and we'll be right back where we started…but worse."

Prompto had to look away, eyes focused on the ground. On anything but Noct's intense glare. "Noct…you know you can't. No matter what, you gotta keep going. You _can't_ come back for me—"

"You're right." Prompto's relief was short-lived as Noct continued ruthlessly, "I won't come back for you, because there's no way in hells I’m _leaving_ you. End of discussion. I'll make it a royal decree if I need to. So before we lose any more time, I'm grabbing those chocobos and you're going to—"

"Wait here for you." Prompto ground out at the expectant look. Because they _were_ losing time. And Prompto had enough experience with Noct's stubborn side to recognize it when it reared its formidable head. Again.

Noct nodded, plucked one of Prompto's guns from the armiger before Prompto could even think to summon it. Handed it to him with curt nod.

"Stay alert, I'll be back before you know it. And try not to move around unless you absolutely need to."

With hardly a rustle, Noct was gone, once more magicked into the gloom.

Prompto settled against the nearest tree, bark rough through the thin sleeves of the scrubs. All senses on high alert. Apart from the imminent threat of MTs, night meant daemons. This close to the outpost, with all its lights blazing strong, their presence was less likely, but absence no way guaranteed.

A glance at his phone confirmed dawn was still hours away. But when daylight did arrive, it'd just make them easier to spot, not to mention the increased number of dangerous fauna out enjoying the daemon-free hours of the day.

Night or day, striking out with nary a supply to their names, just the two of them, with Prompto currently as useless as he was? Insane, if not downright suicidal. But Prompto knew Noct, knew that tone, that look.

Short of Prompto turning the gun on himself now, before Noct got back, he was at a loss as to how to convince Noct to leave him behind. That option was…less than ideal. There was the whole dying thing, which…ehhh. But even more so, he couldn't guarantee Noct wouldn't do something stupid or even riskier once Prompto was out of the picture.

And…Noct would be alone. Prompto knew he didn’t add much, even on his best days, of which today was decidedly not one. But he could still shoot—probably, in theory at least. Could still attempt to watch Noct’s back.

If Gladio or Ignis were closer—if Prompto _knew_ they were okay, on their way…maybe. But until then—unfortunately--he was all Noct had.

Dividing his focus, half his attention turned to the self-assessment he'd been hoping to put off until an elixir—or three —was imminent.

Head—pounding. But at a level he could ignore. Mostly. So…check? Vision—the intermittent graying out was distracting but if he focused enough, it evened out. Eventually. Check. At least a couple broken ribs—he knew the sensation all too well. Which also meant he knew how to operate around them. Sure, bending was hard, as were most arm movements. And breathing kinda sucked. But not as much as _not_ breathing, so, check, why the hells not.

The leg…was going to be a problem. There was a reason 'horn' featured so prominently in the 'dualhorn' moniker. Those things were terrifying even before one punched through his thigh hard enough to shatter bone before popping clear out the other side.

Two of their last potions had been dumped immediately on the wound mid-battle and had barely made a dent, stemming the bleeding but not much else. The clinic had cleaned and dressed the wound and given him a brace to keep the bone temporarily in place. The doctor had recommended surgery – though at a larger and better equipped facility than they had in Taelpar.

Prompto had been holding out hope the elixir would be enough to make that unnecessary –though with serious breaks it wasn't always a sure thing—but as they usually took pains to downplay Noct's ability to create curatives around strangers, asking the doctor's opinion on that had been off the table.

He'd had to fight not to pass out after barely putting weight on it—walking was out. And if he somehow managed to get astride, riding a chocobo was going to be—interesting. He'd find out soon, if the sounds coming from the direction Noct had dashed off in were any indication.

He really _hoped_ that was Noct returning, because otherwise…Prompto gripped his gun tighter, taking careful aim but leaving his finger off the trigger. Because accidentally shooting Noct on top of everything else was definitely what this night needed.

"Prompto?" The soft call had him sagging back against the tree, tension draining away only to be replaced by an acute awareness of body parts preferably ignored.

"Here," Prompto managed to gasp out a moment later just as Noct came into view, leading two chocobos. Their reins were clutched in one hand and in the other he had a bushel of greens to entice the birds along without protest.

Noct closed the final distance quickly, mouth open, but whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the all-too-familiar hum of an approaching dropship.

"Shit!"

Prompto didn't need to be able hear it to recognize the sentiment; it mirrored the curse from his own lips. The accompanying energy surge—good old adrenal gland was really getting a workout tonight—was enough to get him pushed up and taking the shuffled half-step needed to reach his intended mount.

Getting onto it was a whole different matter, a feat impossible if not for Noct's timely assist. He left his steadying hand in place long enough to be sure Prompto wasn't in immediate peril of toppling before leaping onto his own bird.

Riding a chocobo was never what one would describe as relaxing. Wildly exhilarating and incredibly entertaining, certainly. But comfy? Peaceful? Not so much. An all-out run through dense woods, at night, with MTs nipping at their heels and every limb mounting steadily growing protests over their rough handling? Maybe trying to walk _would_ have been the preferred option.

The jolt as his bird launched itself into the air registered almost too late, barely giving Prompto time enough to brace as they came back down hard—the click of talons on pavement in perfect staccato rhythm to the clatter of Prompto's jarred teeth. They were only on the road for a few strides before the chocobo gave another leap to clear the road barrier and carry them back into the forest on the other side.

Prompto couldn't hold back the groan on this landing, breath stuttering as his leg bounced —an internal lightning strike, whiting his vision. It was only by the reflexive tightening of his grip that he miraculously managed to keep from tumbling off.

Trusting in the chocobo's training to follow its brethren, he prayed Noct knew where they were heading. Because at this moment Prompto didn't have a clue, no attention to spare on anything beyond the feathers clutched in each fist, the press of his knees against his bird's heaving sides.

His focus was so narrowed it took him a minute to realize they'd stop moving, Noct halted a few paces in front. Prompto relaxed his death grip, blood rushing to his bone-white knuckles, fingers cramping at the sudden change.

Trying to straighten, his back spasmed, leaving him hunched over for who knew how long. Minutes, hours? Time was as blurry as his vision. Squinting over at Noct, Prompto realized he was speaking…maybe had been for a while now. Words flowed in one ear and out the other with only the occasional syllable bobbing up long enough to process.

Wait, when had Noct dismounted? Was he supposed to as well? Prompto went to swing one leg over, frowned when said limb did little more than twitch. His arms weren't doing much better, hands slack in his lap. Of _course_ now would be the time his body chose to stage a coup. Forcing his equally rebelling neck muscles to obey, he raised his head enough to catch Noct's eye.

Lips reluctantly parted but no words emerged. To be fair, he'd yet to come up with what he wanted to say, but c'mon, did even his _larynx_ have to go on strike? Apparently yes. Not to miss out, his vision finally called it quits, slowly darkening. Also tilting. A lot. Or maybe that was his head.

Prompto was still deciding which body part was most at fault when the ground began rushing up to meet him. Throwing in the towel, he figured it was probably for the best he be blacked out before impact.

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

“Not much further.” Noct wasn’t even sure who he was trying to reassure—Prompto, the chocobos or himself. Who was he kidding? Empty words deserved no audience. Not that he had much of one. The chocobo was clearly straining, sides bellowing between his legs. Noct doubted it had any attention to spare its double burden.

And Prompto.

Noct bent his head enough to catch a glimpse of Prompto's profile. Eyes still closed, expression slack, limbs limp. The gentlest of shakes—the cracked ribs, bruising, every injury Prompto had already suffered weighing heavy Noct's mind—elicited nothing more than a wheezed groan. So…no change since last time he'd checked.

It had only been with the help of a magic assist that Noct had covered the distance in time to cushion Prompto’s fall. Been unable to rouse him ever since.

Doubling up on one chocobo had been the only reasonable solution. But it was proving understandably taxing on the poor bird. Noct had hoped to be able to switch between the two, but its companion had broken away from them shortly after they'd restarted, antsy without a rider.

Back at the clinic, when a chance late night stroll had proved a critical stroke of fortuitous timing, Noct's first thoughts as he'd struggled to resurface from under the wave of betrayed disbelief had been the certainty he needed to get Prompto out of there. Fast. The failure to contact Ignis or Gladio had sent his racing thoughts into full panic mode.

He'd next thought of Cor. But contact with him and the few other remaining Crownsguard had been sporadic at best these past months, their focus split between avoiding Imperial troops, keeping Insomnia refugees safe and tracking royal arms. Noct had left a message, but wasn’t holding his breath on aid arriving any time soon.

Old Lestallum was the closest real town. But that also made it their most obvious target. Not to mention its close proximity to not one but two different Imperial strongholds. This part of Duscae was woefully lacking in havens, and the few he knew of had all been pointed out to them by—surprise, surprise—local hunters. Said same hunters would almost certainly have them staked out.

What they needed, first and foremost, was to get Prompto back on his feet. Which meant an elixir. Noct had been flipping through possibilities even as he'd been dragging Prompto from bed, rustling up chocobos.

He settled on a rest stop they'd passed a few days prior. Noct had been asleep for at least part of the drive, but they'd stopped there after lunch, and had then made it to Taelpar before full dark, so it couldn't be _that_ far.

They'd also need some way to obtain the energy drink. Which in most cases meant money. But Noct was desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures. Or armed robbery, in this case.

Noct wasn't overly comfortable with the idea, could imagine what any of his companions would have to say about it. But seeing as two of them weren't _here,_ their allies had turned against them, and the only sounds coming from Prompto currently were whimpers of pain, Noct was feeling more inclined to screw moral righteousness with every passing second.

Only the going was slower than even his pessimism had predicted. The chocobo wasn't even up to trotting anymore, down to a slow walk. And the terrain was proving treacherously steep; more than once he'd been forced to turn them back, find a new path down the ridge Taelpar lay above.

They'd be lucky if they reached the valley floor by daybreak, let alone Coernix Station. Twice now Noct had heard the sound, and once seen the diffused glow, of drop ships in the distance. The systematic sweeping search pattern was as ominous as it was obvious.

And of course, their reduced speed made them all the more vulnerable to daemons.

The all-too-familiar warble-squawk was the only warning Noct got as the chocobo slammed to a halt, wings flapping rapidly as it began the threat-detected-and-I'm-about-to-buck-you-off-while-retreating dance that chocobos were all too prone to.

Noct tightened his hold on Prompto, mentally apologizing for the punishing grip even as he felt them lose their seat. It was more a controlled fall than his usual smooth jump. But he managed to keep Prompto's impact relatively light, and none of his own limbs protested overly much as they slammed down. Could've been worse. Could also be better. Infinitely.

The chocobo's harried flight masked the sound, but the sight of an arachne breaching the darkness was unmissable, three tarantulas scurrying in its wake.

Noct lowered Prompto to the ground even as he summoned two daggers, flinging them in quick succession at the smaller flanking daemons. Careful to keep himself between Prompto and the encroaching threat, he called forth his engine blade, sunk down into a guarded stance just in time to meet the leading daemon's charge.

Keeping track of both allies and enemies in the heat of battle had been drilled into Noct from a young age, but had only truly been put to the test in the last few months, when smooth teamwork meant the difference between victory and defeat.

Only having one comrade to track, and a stationary one at that, should have made things easier. Except every step, every action, was weighed down by the knowledge that just one wrong counter, one dodge too far afield and Prompto would be left entirely undefended.

Blades whirling akin to a blender, Noct saw an opening, risked a short warp. The added force proved enough to maim the arachne, two legs breaking off to fly into the shadows. Shrieking in fury, the daemon fell back, the remaining tarantula scurrying in to defend its companion.

Normally Noct wouldn't even both with the lesser daemons until he'd finished off the arachne, not much of a threat on their own. But even a single tarantula could inflict serious damage to an unconscious target.

Splitting his focus meant no one attack held much finesse or power, but even so Noct was slowly gaining the upper hand. Or at least he _thought_ he was. Until he heard movement from above. Another smaller daemon, dropping in from an overhanging tree.

Countering the arachne's lunge, whipping around to block and parry the synchronized attacks of the other two, Noct realized only a fraction of a second too late the backup hadn't been just one, but several, the surrounding branches shaking with the arriving tarantula.

He threw himself into a roll, hunched, knowing it would be a hair too slow. Could feel the rush of air as a piercing leg slammed downwards, and flinched—only for a burst of light to nearly blind him, set all the daemons hissing and cringing back.

Noct had backup of his own.

Before his brain had fully processed, his reflexes reacted to the familiar presence of starshell shattering the flow of the fight, dispatching the stunned arachne and remaining tarantulas with a few more well-placed sword strokes.

Even as the white flare died away, Noct shot back to Prompto's side.

Offering a few muted bars of his usual victory hum in greeting, Prompto's grin was wobbly but there as Noct dropped down next to him, panting.

Up close, though, it was impossible to miss the pain lines bracketing Prompto's mouth, the way his gun hand trembled as he dropped his weapon back into the armiger with a tired exhale.

"You good—?"

"How you doing—?"

Their questions tripped over one another, filling the silence in the now quiet woods.

"Good," Noct assured. He was about ninety—okay, eighty—percent certain that he'd come away unscathed but for a new bruise or two, maybe a couple scratches.

"A-okay!" Prompto tried to assure in turn, even as the arm propping him up gave out, would have sent him sprawling if not for the hand Noct flung forward.

Prompto heaved a stuttered breath, eyes closed, leaning heavily into Noct's support. "…maybe, B-okay? C? D-okay?"

Noct sighed. "More like F, as in totally…"

Prompto gave a mostly mirthless laugh. "Yeah. Sounds about right. "

He shifted, gathering his arms under him before Noct realized what he was trying—and failing-- to do; already falling back again before Noct could intercede. Grimacing, Prompto's eyes blinked open, tossed Noct a sheepish look. "I, uh…think I'm gonna need help getting up."

The "Obviously" warred with the "Don't move, idiot," neither victorious, so silent Noct remained as he deliberated their next move. One hand resting on Prompto's shoulder—whether to help or hinder his next attempt Noct had yet to decide.

The chocobo showed no sign of returning—unsurprising when it hadn't actually been assigned to Noct or Prompto, and its brethren had long since abandoned them. Probably halfway back to Taelpar by now, if they hadn't just given up and gone for Whiz's instead.

If they were lucky, its harried flight might serve to confuse their pursuers.

But Noct had given up on relying on luck a long time ago. Which meant they needed to get moving again, ASAP. Only now…continuing on foot was the only option.

Prompto had clearly come to the same conclusion as he tried to push up again, grabbing at Noct's arm this time for support. "Just get me standing and I'll—"

Noct cut him off, shifted to present his back. Turned to speak over his shoulder. "Hop on."

Prompto shook his head. "Dude, did you miss the whole daemons coming out of the woodwork thing?! You have to be mobile at a moment's notice, not worrying about how quickly you can put me down."

Noct twisted to glare over his shoulder. "And did _you_ miss the fact you all but blacked out just putting a bit of weight on your leg earlier tonight? Or the fact you _did_ pass out an hour ago? 'Cause I sure the hells didn't."

Prompto flinched, looked away. "Yeah, I'm a liability, I _get_ it." Prompto's mutter was low enough Noct had to strain to hear, took him a moment to fully register. Which was the only reason Prompto was able to make it most of the way through, "Which is why you're supposed _leave_ me and keep going—"

Fuck. "No!" Noct hadn't meant to be quite so loud. The harsh bark echoed through the darkness. He'd known—dreaded--that Prompto had given in too easily earlier. It was a wonder none of Noct's teeth shattered, with how hard his jaw was clenched. "That's _not_ my point. At all."

"Doesn't make it not true!" Prompto snapped back.

"Yeah, it does actually. How is the guy who just saved my ass a 'liability'?"

"Your ass only needed rescuing because you were guarding me more than paying attention to the fight!"

"And you only needed guarding because you're injured. Remind me again how that happened? Oh right, because you'd been doing your Astrals-forsaken duty _protecting_ me! Now can we stop wasting time and get on? Or do I have to throw you over my shoulder?"

Prompto matched Noct glare for glare. "And then what? What's your plan, when we get attacked again? You need to be ready to warp at a second's notice. Pretty sure I'd rather be left balancing without a crutch than dumped like a sack of potatoes."

"Like hells I would!"

"Which is the _problem_! You can't be hesitating!"

He had a point, damn it. But…"Prom, you have a mostly unhealed _hole_ in your leg, and an entirely unhealed broken bone, you can't—"

"What was that about _wasting time?!_ Look, the hole's bandaged, and you saw how heavy-duty the splint they used is. It's doing its job keeping everything in place. I just....wasn't braced for it, when I tried earlier. I am now. So: Let's. Get. Moving."

Suiting actions to words, Prompto heaved himself up again, going for it with or without Noct's agreement. Or aid.

The full-body shudder as Prompto began moving the limb in question was impossible to hide. But did nothing to deter him. Just made the swaying as he pushed to his knees more pronounced. It did catapult Noct into action, though.

"Stubborn idiot!" Easing Prompto's arm over his shoulder, Noct took on the maximum amount of weight Prompto was willing to share.

Prompto huffed what Noct guessed was supposed to be a chuckle but sounded closer to a moan to Noct's attuned ear as they staggered to their feet. "That's me."

"Promise you'll tell me when you need a break."

Prompto's labored breathing was his only response.

"Prompto…"

"C-can't talk. W-walking." And they were. Albeit not at their quickest pace. But the shambling gait was honestly faster than Noct would have predicted.

How sustainable that would be, though, was an entirely different matter. Pressed so close together, it was impossible to miss the tremor that shook Prompto every time he dragged his injured leg forward. Noct would no doubt have bruises on his shoulder from how tightly Prompto's fingers were digging in.

But aside from the initially silent hitch in his breath, growing closer and closer to a whimper with each passing minute, Prompto voiced no complaint.

The ground continued to slope downwards; dim light and rough terrain of rocks, roots and underbrush made footing treacherous, taking all of Noct's concentration to navigate.

The third time they stumbled, the misstep hard enough Prompto couldn't fully suppress the choked sob, Noct decided logic be damned.

Only he hadn't even shifted his grip enough to begin picking Prompto up when two imps careened out of the darkness and directly into their path.

He'd been doing so much of it of late, warping came almost as naturally as breathing. Noct struck the first one low—blip—high on the second. One hit each was more than enough for such minor daemons.

Whipping back around, Noct caught Prompto as his arms were wind-milling, but still managing to keep upright, balanced on his good foot, gun in hand. Noct made it back to his side just in time to stop the imminent topple.

"Forgot, meant…to…keep this out." Prompto wheezed, hefting the weapon as Noct eased under his arm again. His breath was coming in gulps for all that he'd remained stationary throughout the brief encounter.

Noct didn't even get his lips parted before Prompto nudge at him. "I'll spare the told-you-so's. L-Let's go."

They hadn't gone much further when the tell-tale glow of several thunder bombs were easily spotted still a ways off. The quick double report of two rapid fire shots ended two-thirds of the threat before Noct had started to move, dispatching the last daemon with another warp-strike.

"Liability my ass." Noct muttered as they quickly fell back into step.

Prompto's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. Or a grimace. He showed no other sign of acknowledgment as they resumed their hobbled gait.

Noct's back was starting to ache, his legs protesting the awkward stride. He was loathe to put words into Prom’s mouth, but if he had to hazard a guess, 'gods awful' would be top contenders.

Opening his mouth to suggest a pause, Prompto proved once more a beat ahead. "H-hey--" Noct doubted he'd have heard the choked whisper if not for the increasing attention he'd been focusing on Prompto's every minute reaction.

"Nn?"

"T-that break, you mentioned. I…t-think I need to take you up on it."

Noct rocked to a halt as he suddenly found himself supporting Prompto's entire weight, legs having buckled while still gasping the last words out. He was trembling so bad it set Noct's own teeth to rattling. Noct hastily adjusted his grip, swinging Prompto up into a haphazard princess carry.

The expected snarky comments of Noct’s royal standing not being tacit permission to put Prompto in such an embarrassing hold never manifested. Instead Prompto remained silent except for his harsh panting, head dropping immediately to Noct's shoulder, curling in on himself as much as the awkward embrace allowed.

A few dozen staggered steps brought them to an exposed boulder, large enough to make a sizable seat. Lowering Prompto down, Noct propped him against a well-placed outcropping, reached to adjust the injured leg to an elevated position.

Noct kept his movements slow and careful. Just not slowly or carefully enough, judging from the shudder that shook Prompto's shoulders, the barely stifled cry.

Prompto hadn't lost consciousness this time, but it was clearly a near thing. Even with the support of the rock and Noct's arm, he swayed where he sat, eyes screwed shut.

"Sorry." Noct knew it wasn't nearly adequate, but lacked anything more productive to offer.

Prompto shook his head, drew in another few breaths, each sounding very slightly less strangled than the previous.

After no more than a minute, two at the most, Noct felt him tense, back straightening.

"We s-should get moving again."

The cry wasn't at all stifled this time, ringing out through the otherwise quiet woods. The previous lessons of tonight still apparently unlearned, Prompto had once more failed to wait for Noct's help before trying to stand.

The results only worsened with every attempt. This time ended with Prompto immediately slumped back against Noct, gasping like a fish newly heaved from the water, twitching through its last desperate beached breaths.

Noct felt his own airways constrict in sympathy.

"Prompto! Are you—"

Prompto gave a single jerk of his head. "Nothing. It's f-fine. I'm….f-fine."

Neither laughing or crying seemed productive. But no other response seemed wholly appropriate.

"You and I have _very_ different definitions for that word." Noct glared. Prompto ignored him.

"J-just, get me up. And I'll—"

Screw. That. "Yeah, no. Not doing that again."

"Noct! We agreed. You need to stay mobile and I can walk—"

"That was then, this is now."

"N-nothing's changed!".

"You bet it has. Before you could manage, now you can't!"

Prompto shook his head, choked out "I c-can, I j-just—"

Noct's other arm shot out, preempting the motion. He ducked his head to catch Prompto's wavering gaze.

"Okay, maybe _you_ can. But _I_ can't!"

Prompto froze, blinked. "Oh…I…right, hauling me along's gotta be tiring. M-maybe, if we can find branch for a crutch, I could—"

"That is _not_ what I meant." Noct sighed. For someone with near perfect aim, it was astounding just how far off the mark Prompto could get. "I can't watch you force yourself anymore. The fact that you're anywhere but in a hospital bed is killing me. Asking you to walk even one step further? Not gonna happen. Options off the table!"

"B-but, the daemons—"

"Attack less and less the closer to dawn it gets. Which....isn't far off now." The lack of stars, pale blue showing at the horizon, not to mention the growing volume of awakening birds chirping was all testament to that.

Prompto's head shot up, glanced around. "Six, these woods aren't gonna be enough, full light and we're sitting ducks!"

This fact had not escaped Noct, had been weighing increasingly over the last half hour. "Which is why you're not wrong in that we _do_ need to get moving. So," twisting around, Noct began to haul Prompto's arms over his shoulders. Prompto stayed quiet, let Noct shift him into position.

He wasn't sure if it was more out of agreement or lack of energy to continue to argue. Either way, Noct wasn't going to question the sudden victory.

"Brace yourself. I'm gonna stand. Get your legs around my waist." Suiting actions to words, Noct pushed up, helping to guide Prompto's limbs as he went.

Noct instantly stilled at the cut-off yelp. From their new position, Prompto's mouth landed close enough to Noct's head for the puffs of Prompto's labored exhales to tickle the shell of his ear. Close enough to hear the forced swallow, every hitch and catch of his breath.

Noct waited for it to mostly even out before continuing. "Okay?"

After feeling Prompto's hesitant nod, he set off at as fast a pace as his flagging strength and the uneven ground would allow.

"Where—" Prompto's voice was quiet, rough, even this close. The gulp was equally audible. "-where are we even heading?"

"North." Noct kept it short, conserving energy much needed for walking.

"North?" Prompto sounded puzzled. "You're not thinking of trying to make it to Lestallum?"

Noct shook his head. "Just gotta get out of these hills."

"Only thing I remember 'bout the drive through here was one abandoned farm after another. What's—"

"Exactly."

"Noct," Prompto sounded skeptical. "The few structures we passed looked to be on their last legs."

"Not looking for a resort," Noct huffed. "Just need somewhere to hide for the day." Shelter from pursuit and possible defensive cover if their location was revealed. "And soon."

Prompto fell quiet again, though Noct could feel the occasional twitch. And once when the path dropped off, forcing Noct to hop down, a strangled cry escaped as they touched down.

Noct's own breathing had become heavy, his pace slowing as his stamina dwindled. Focus narrowing—one foot in front of the other, he could do that much.

"Noct?" Prompto's throat-clearing had him jerking, startled. Realizing it wasn't the first time Prompto had said his name.

"Hn?"

"Do you need a break? I can w-walk again for a bit."

Noct's back was twinging, and his calves downright burning. But from the pained gasps Prompto was failing more and more to suppress, the way his breath was stuttering even now, his fingers clenching sporadically, Noct would sooner walk over hot coals than ask Prompto to get down.

"No."

"Are you sure? I—"

Noct shook his head, kept plodding on.

After a few more strides, he was forced to pause in order to catch his breath, used the break as a chance to shift Prompto, hike him higher on his back. Prompto's exclamation broke the silence.

"Noct, look!"

Dragging his head up, it took a moment for Noct to register where Prompto was pointing. Off to their right, rising out of the gloom, half blocked by trees, was the silhouette of what could only be a silo.

Adjusting course, the ground leveled out as they approached, until they finally hit what had to be the remains of an old stone wall, lining a rutted, half-washed-away dirt road, overgrown with weeds. Unused for who knew how long.

Following it brought them almost to the base of the dilapidated structure. One of the large doors was half off its hinges, the other missing entirely. The visible windows were all broken, shards of glass dotting the ground around them.

"Well, it's still standing, so that's something at least," Prompto murmured as he leaned over Noct's shoulder.

Over the past three decades, between increasing Imperial occupation and the ever-rising frequency of daemons, agriculture in these parts had steadily declined, most farms eventually abandoned as people fled to Lestallum or even to Insomnia. 

The frequency of such sights had been a sore spot, just one of many, leaving Noct feeling bruised and defeated the more they traversed the width and breadth of his supposed kingdom.

Now though, all he felt was relief, that there was something, anything, going their way.

The sun was just cresting the horizon, clouds pinking as he toed the door open, stumbled over the threshold.

The silo was cavernous, at least three stories tall. In truth it looked in better shape than Noct was expecting. No doubt built only a few short years before its subsequent abandonment.

As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, the shapes of what looked to be old harvest equipment poked up from beneath canvas tarps, lining either side of the entrance. Beyond that, Noct spied the foot of a staircase.

Letting his eyes follow its path as it circled the perimeter of the building, Noct could, squinting, just make out a platform near the top, dimly illuminated by what was presumably an out-of-view upper window.

Noct shuffled over to a bench built into the wall, gave it a hard, sturdiness-check kick before lowering Prompto down. Prompto's low groan covered Noct's own as his back was relieved of its burden.

"Wait here, I'm going to go check above. See how feasible a lookout it'll be."

Noct had already summoned a dagger before Prompto even nodded, tossing it with enough force to warp him to the highest platform, a catwalk stretching the entire diameter.

Readying himself to once more warp at a moment's notice if the floor gave way, Noct was instead surprised by the firmness he felt beneath his boots, no give even as he did a couple testing jumps.

Making his way to the now visible window, he pushed the metal shutter. With a squeaky protest, it swung wide, offering a commanding view from the opening.

To his far left, the foothills they'd just descended. To the center, untilled fields, mostly overgrown, stretched from here to the horizons. Other buildings, sheds and barns and what looked to be an old farm house poked up amongst the rolling hills and occasional trees. To the right, following the ambling line of the dirt lane they'd arrived on, far enough he could only just make it out, wound the thin black ribbon of the highway.

If pursuit in the form of hunters was coming, that would be the direction from which it would most likely approach. And the drop ships were many things, but subtle wasn't one of them. From here they'd know if someone was coming, have time to prepare, and a strategic location from which to defend.

Now he just had to get Prompto up here.

Taking the stairs back down, he was relieved to find them as sturdy as the catwalk itself, though the railing was loose in a few areas, screws rusted through.

"Prompto, looks like we can…" Noct trailed off. That was definitely the bench he'd left him on. But there was now a decided lack of Prompto.

"Over here!" came the shout, even as Noct's pulse kicked into overdrive.

Prompto was balancing on his good foot, one hand hooked around the edge of a storage locker for support. The other was rummaging inside.

"Found some extra tarps, and look." Straightening up, Noct only had a second to register the bucket Prompto was brandishing before he staggered.

Noct leapt forward to keep him from toppling. "Prompto!"

Noct questioned if he'd actually heard the hiss of pain, so quick was Prompto to wipe the obvious signs of discomfort off his face. "Thought I'd be useful, see what they had for supplies. Hopefully a water source."

Now that his attention was called to it, Noct realized his throat was aching, beyond parched. They were going to need to stay hydrated if they had any semblance of hope of sustaining what strength remained.

At least for food, they were covered for the short term. Gladio had a tendency to grow cranky when hungry. All four of them had quickly learned to keep a supply of power bars on hand at all times just in case. Noct knew he had at least three squirreled away in his coat, was guessing Prompto's vest contained another one or two.

Prompto, however, had another thing coming if he thought for a second Noct was going to let him wander around any further in his state.

Snatching the bucket from Prompto's hands, he slung Prompto's arm over his shoulder, bent to grab the tarps Prompto had located. "I'll go. After we get you situated."

They wound up having to pause twice on the stairs, both sweating—and swearing—by the time they'd reached the top. Together dropped panting to the floor beneath the window.

Ignoring Prompto’s attempt to wave him off, Noct insisted on a quick check of the various bandages, braces and injuries to confirm tonight’s journey hadn’t reopened any wounds. 

Miraculously, nothing seemed significantly worse, though Noct was less than confident in Prompto admitting anything even if it was. But after a few minutes of finally being stationary, his complexion had begun to slowly regain some color, if nothing else.

Grabbing up one of the tarps, Noct wrapped it around Prompto's shoulders. The scrubs he was wearing weren't that much thinner than his usual clothing, but after all the exertion of the past few hours, Noct hoped to stave off Prompto developing a chill along with everything else.

As satisfied as he was going to get, Noct pushed himself up again.

"Stay here. Try to get comfortable." Pulling out his phone, he was relieved to see two full bars of service. "Call if you see or hear anything coming. I'll be back shortly."

Noct wanted nothing more than to drop next to Prompto, to take five himself. But there was still stuff to be done. His foot was hovering on the first step when Prompto's voice hailed him from behind.

"Noct?" He turned, quirked an eyebrow in inquiry. Prompto had huddled into the tarp, leaning against the wall close enough to the window for an almost full view. "Just…be careful."

With dawn in full swing, Noct kept to spots as shielded from aerial view as possible, warping from one dilapidated shed or well-placed tree to the next. It didn't take him long to find the remnants of an old irrigation system, trace it back to its source.

By some miracle, once he'd forced the rusted spigot around, with a few burps and sputters, water actually began to flow. Mostly brown at first, but as he let it run a few minutes it gradually cleared. Noct quickly filled the bucket as full as he could manage without being too unwieldy to lug back.

Prompto had taken the 'get comfortable' to heart, Noct found upon his return. He'd carefully spread out one of the tarps, bunched the second up to form a sort of backrest, while the third he'd left as a covering, currently huddling beneath.

He'd already rummaged around in his pockets, two power bars, an opened bag of nuts, and half a pack of gum lying in a semi-circle to the side. His gun lay in his lap and he was frowning at his phone.

"Still nothing. From Ignis or Gladio."

Noct grimaced. He hadn't realized how much hope he'd been holding out on that front until Prompto's shaky whisper set his gut to once more churning. "We'll…figure it out."

Prompto nodded.

They made an adequate if bland breakfast of water and power bars, chewing in silence.

"You should get some rest. I'll take first watch" Prompto murmured, as they were finishing up. Noct, midway through sweeping away the crumbs, glanced up.

"Uh, no. I'm fine. _You're_ the one—-"

Prompto's snort cut him off. "Now who's misusing that word. Noct, I can see you blinking from here. You've been going the whole night—"

"So have you!"

Prompto shook his head. "I got half a night's sleep at the clinic. And—" he overrode Noct's protest, "I got a break while you were carrying me."

"That hardly counts!"

The worst part was, Prompto wasn't wrong. Truth was, Noct had been having trouble sleeping for the past three nights, worry and guilt better than coffee at keeping him up. It was how he'd overheard the threat in the first place, prowling the empty corridors to bleed off some of his pent-up anxieties.

Sleepless nights combined with panicked flight, not to mention carrying Prompto for the better part of an hour, were all catching up with him.

Even so, that was small change compared to the toll the same events had to be taking on Prompto. Even after being stationary for a while now, he remained pale, the dark smudged under his eyes the only sign of color. He'd finally stopped whimpering with every third breath, but his brow had yet to lose its pained furrow.

Noct scrubbed a hand over his face, pushed to his knees to crawl closer to the window. "Can we…not argue about this. You're right, I'm tired. But you…" Noct sighed, gazed out into the bright morning light. "Just…let it go."

Prompto was silent, seconds sliding into minutes, long enough Noct thought he'd won. One more hollow victory. Until.

"Do you regret it?"

Noct grimaced, let one shoulder rise in inquiry even as he remained looking out. "'It'? Prom, there's almost _nothing_ I don't regret at this point, gonna have to be more specific."

"Bringing me along?"

Noct snorted. "Do I regret not leaving you to be captured, turned over to the Empire? Uh...lemme think. Fucking hells, no!"

"No…" Prompto's voice dropped, each word halting. "I mean…regret making me part of your honor guard, rather than a real Crownsguard."

 _That_ got Noct whipping around. "You _are_ a real Crownsguard."

Prompto was shaking his head. "You know what I mean. If you'd known, when you set out from Insomnia, everything in store, wouldn't you have made a different choice in companions? Someone with experience, full training. Someone who'd actually be useful in times like this? Do you regret it?"

Back in Insomnia… Before fate had crashed into his life like a second astral shard plummeting to Eos.

"Do I regret dragging you into this mess? Do I regret placing you in a position in which your life is constantly in jeopardy? That every choice sucks and just about everything is out to get us? You better believe I fucking regret it!"

Prompto was frowning. Noct pushed on rather than try to interpret. ".…but am I also a selfish bastard who's grateful to have his best friend by his side when faced with all this shit? Am I in constant awe of how much you put up with on a daily basis, despite not receiving anywhere near enough training? Ridiculously grateful you don't let that stop you, you just keep going, for my sake? Also guilty as charged. Every single day."

Not meeting his eyes, Prompto's lips twitched into a rueful smile.

Noct swallowed, hesitated. But it had to be asked. "What about you, you regret it? Me asking you to come, getting hauled along for this unfolding disaster?"

Prompto glanced up, eyes meeting Noct head on, unflinching. "Never. Not once."

Noct snorted, started to turn.

Prompto lunged forward, tugged at Noct's shoulder. Gaze earnest, beseeching. "I'm serious, Noct. By your side's where I want to be. No regrets. "

How was it possible to feel so completely relieved and overwhelmingly guilt-ridden at the same time? Both emotions fought for dominance in a gut-churning battle as Noct met Prompto's look. Gulped and nodded.

Prompto returned the gestured, then frowned. "Except—"

Noct froze, tried to flinched. Waited. Prompto pushed on.

"Except maybe, when I fail to do my part. When I know I'm letting you down—"

"You never—" Noct felt the words blur together he pushed them out so fast.

"Then let me help! Take a break, Noct. You need it!"

Noct felt transfixed by the beseeching gaze. Check and mate. "You don't fight fair, you know that, right?"

Prompto's returning grin was downright cheeky. "''Course, how else do you think I maintain the top score in every game we've ever played?"

"In your dreams." Noct muttered.

"No, in _yours._ Which you can enjoy fully right this moment. When you _sleep!"_

Ceding defeat, Noct slid down, bringing his head to come to rest cushioned on the thigh of Prompto's uninjured leg. Not only did it prove a more comfortable pillow than the floor, but it guaranteed Prompto wouldn't try ambling about while Noct was resting.

"I…guess. Maybe a little while."

Even from his upside-down angle, Prompto's smile beamed brighter than the dawn light illuminating it.

"But," Noct admonished, "you gotta promise, wake me first sign of any trouble. Or if you start feeling sleepy."

Prompto offered a thumbs-up.

As keyed up as he felt, Noct expected sleep to prove as elusive as it had since the dualhorn first pierced Prompto's flesh. But as his eyes drifted shut, the unrelenting wave of exhaustion swept over him between one exhale and the next, tugging him swiftly into the depths of inescapable slumber.

To Be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...this uh, took a liiiittle bit longer than I was expecting. *shifty eyes* When I posted chapter 1, I sort of forgot the FFVII Remake release was right around the corner, which wound up eating my life for a few weeks. And then Reliance,Resolve demanded to be written. And then almost everyone I live with, as well as a number of friends, was playing Animal Crossing. I'm only just now beginning to ease myself away from that game's addictive clutches. 
> 
> But, hopefully, there will be less impediments to the next chapter *fingers crossed*. I'm easily distracted and my muse is a fickle fickle beast...so apologies in advance if the next update is also delayed. But, as I said in some of the comments (thank you all for such lovely response, your rock!!) this story has in no way been forgotten! 
> 
> And thanks especially to ellay_gee, who's been a wonderful writing reminder buddy! *cough*write m'dear, write! ^__-*cough*


	3. Chapter 3

"Noct?" 

Prompto had wanted to give him longer. A shouldering, at least in part, of the burden Prompto had been so conspicuously adding to. Astrals knew Noct could use it after last night. 

In the end, though, he hadn't even made it to noon. As the sun had climbed in the sky, so too had the pounding in Prompto's skull. Whatever painkillers he'd been given yesterday had well and truly run their course, as too, unfortunately, had the adrenaline rush. 

For the first hour or two Prompto had managed to distract himself with the view. The rapidly changing lighting made for a tantalizingly photogenic vista. Lining up the perfect angle, fantasizing the ideal shot, proved enough to take his mind off both the physical and mental strains all jockeying for attention.

Up until it didn't. The realization he needed to be horizontal—needed to close his eyes and focus every fiber of his being on the simple act of not sobbing—hit him all at once. Failing that, he was fairly certain he was going to throw up instead. And he doubted even Noct's capacity to sleep through being heaved on. 

"Noooct. C'mon buddy!" Prompto added in a shoulder jostle for good measure. Still nothing. Prompto had enough experience with the waking-of-the-Noct morning ritual that he'd have been more concerned if he _had_ arisen on the first call. Or three. 

A grunt. Prompto flicked the vulnerable shell of Noct's ear, one of many tried and true tricks he'd developed over the years. Prompto realized his mistake a moment too late as Noct grumped, offered his usual uncoordinated flail. 

Prompto couldn't hold back the yelp as the floundering hand collided with one of his cracked ribs, the mostly manageable dull ache morphing into an acute flare booming through his chest like a firework burst. 

"Oh fuck, Prom!"

Well, if nothing else, the gasps he utterly failed to suppress proved one of the most effective methods yet in the continuing battle of the waking world versus Noctis. 

Prompto could feel Noct's hands on his shoulders, supporting him even as he listed, curled in on himself. The litany of apologies and concerned queries continued as he slowly brought his breathing back under control. Was finally able to straighten up enough to wave Noct away.

"S'fine….my bad."

Forcing his eyes open, Prompto met Noct's searching gaze, any hints of sleepiness gone, replaced by all-too-obvious guilt. 

Prompto tried for a chuckle, aborted the attempt when his recently abused ribs immediately resumed their protest. "Eh, swim with the sharks and all that. S'not like I'm not well aware of the risks in waking you up." Laughing may have been out but he still managed to summon a grin. 

Noct's expression remained grim, brow furrowed. "Prompto, seriously. How're you doing?"

Prompto felt his smile waver, an revealed mirage in the streaming sunlight. "Honestly?...I'm…um…about ten seconds away from either bringing back up breakfast or passing out entirely."

Noct was in motion before he'd finished, hands deftly maneuvering Prompto away from where he'd still been braced by wall and window sill, lowering him prone even as he dragged the rolled tarp closer, sliding it under Prompto's throbbing head. 

It was amazing how much a difference just the change in orientation made. Allowing his eyes to once more drift close, Prompto took a moment to focus on the simple act of breathing. The sickening lurch in his stomach slowly, grudgingly receded. 

"Better?" Noct's voice was soft. 

Prompto didn't risk opening his eyes, hoped the slight nod he did manage would be enough. The grip on his shoulder tightened briefly, in reassurance or acknowledgment, Prompto couldn't say, before he felt it withdraw. 

Only to return a moment later, on his forehead this time. Followed by a frustrated hiss.

"You're hot."

"Aww, Noct, stop, you'll make me blush." Though that would explain how insubstantial his focus had become, with all the strength and structure of wax too close to the flame. 

Noct snorted. "No, that'd be the fever."

Even with his eyes still closed, Prompto could easily visualize the eye roll. Couldn't stop his lips quirking into a grin. "Can't it be both?"

The press of the palm changed to a gentle tug on his hair, admonishing. "Idiot. You should have woken me earlier."

Prompto shook his head. Regretted it instantly with how even in the darkness of his closed lids, everything seemed to pulse. He grimaced. "You needed the rest."

Noct must have noticed the tensing, his hands shifted again, to begin running slow circles over Prompto's temples.

Prompto let out a slow breath, surprised and ridiculously grateful at how much it helped. At some indeterminate amount of time later, Prompto felt Noct pull away.

"Better?" he asked softy. Prompto barely had the presence to hum an affirmative.

"You should probably have some water before you sleep." 

The slosh of the bucket, and then Noct was back, propping Prompto up enough to slurp at his cupped hand. After a few sips, Prompto was slid back down. 

"Get some rest," Noct murmured.

Prompto searched for a proper response, but the effort to think, let alone talk, had become too great. He settled for a sloppy, barely there thumbs up. 

Exhausted as he was, though, actual sleep proved elusive. Too many body parts, even now—lying completely still—were making themselves all too known. He was still awake when the sound of Noct moving about—away, towards the stairs—registered.

"N'ct?" he roused enough to call.

"Sorry, was trying to be quiet, didn't mean to disturb you. We're running low on water. And I wanna look around, see if there's anything else of use. I left your phone right by your head. Call immediately if you need anything."

"'kay," Prompto just managed to mumble. 

His perception became insubstantial, no longer fully awake, but not truly asleep either. Gently drifting between the two states like one of Noct's bobbers on a calm day. Sound flowed in and out in waves—Noct's fading footfalls, birds calling to one another, leaves rusting in the wind, the soft rumble of an engine. 

Prompto froze as the last slowly percolated into the sludge his thoughts had become. Focused.

Not the hum of a drop ship, thank the Six. That thrum was unmistakable. Sounded like a car. Getting steadily closer. 

He was scrambling for the phone before the rest of his thoughts had fully caught up.

**** 

It had been less the immediate need for water and more the lingering guilt combined with rising anxiousness over Prompto's clearly deteriorating condition that drove Noct to find a productive outlet for his restless energy. 

His first instinct was to revive the old plan, beeline for Coernix station. The map on his phone estimated about a three-hour walk from their current location. If Noct ran it, he could probably halve that. Though if he had to avoid any trouble, it'd be longer. And once he carried off his plans of larceny, additional pursuit was all too likely. 

So, round trip, three or four hours total. At the very best. Leaving Prompto for that long, even if Prompto was at his peak? Truth was, Noct not-so-secretly hated any of them being separated for that long out here, away from the protection of town or haven. But with Prompto in his current condition? Not an option.

But dragging Prompto that distance was also looking less and less possible. So, new options were needed. And soon. 

Who knew, maybe in their haste to abandon the place, the owners had left behind a vehicle. With gas still in the tank and the keys readily found. While Noct was wishing, a handy first aid kit and a fully stocked larder of non-perishable goods wouldn't go amiss. 

Their luck had to turn around _eventually_ , right? How long could a bad streak really last? Noct immediately regretted the question, even just in his thoughts. The Astrals would probably see it as a challenge. 

Noct had so far crossed a shed and three more dilapidated buildings off his list—nothing but empty shelves and echoing spaces with an occasional rusting plow or the remains of a tractor. The current barn was cavernous, some kind of dumping station was Noct’s guess, with a door easily large enough for a large tractor or full truck to enter. Nearly half of the space was filled by a deep pit, some sort of storage tank. The walls were smooth, the bottom practically lost in shadow, double the height of a grown man, if not deeper.

Noct was crouched by the edge, confirming it was indeed as empty as it first appeared—when his phone went off. 

"Noct!" Prompto sounded winded. And panicked. "Two pickups—" The inhale was choked off, but Prompto kept going before Noct could urge him to slow down. "—Headed our way."

Retracing his steps to the entrance, Noct stuck to the shadows, peered out. Could see the dust cloud kicked up as the vehicles bounced their way down the uneven dirt lane. 

"Shit! I see 'em."

"What are we going to—"

"You're going to stay where you are."

"But—"

They were already close enough; Noct couldn't risk returning—if they happened to spot the warp, he'd just be leading them straight back to Prompto. Better to stay down here, mobile, to assess the situation, reassured in the knowledge Prompto should be at minimal risk. 

The challenge was convincing him.

"You have to give your leg a rest." And everything else, for that matter.

"Fine, but I can still provide cover fire from up here—"

"They could get a lock on your position all too easily!" And without retreat as an option. No, the only way Prompto was staying safe was if he remained undetected. "Look, it may be nothing, could be a coincidence. Until we know—"

"Odds are—"

"Even if they _are_ here for us, I'm not seeing any sign of Imperial forces. I can handle a few hunters on their own, no sweat. So, stay hidden and I'll be back as soon!" Noct hung up before Prompto could continue the argument. 

Fifty-fifty odds Prompto wouldn't listen no matter what he said. Which just meant Noct had to finish up quickly. Because no matter what else, Noct knew beyond a doubt Prompto was in no shape to fight, no shape to do half of what had been required of him in the last twenty-four hours. But he'd try nonetheless, screw the consequences. And damned if Noct was letting that happen. Again. 

Noct didn't have long to wait before the two trucks came trundling into view, drawing to a halt in the driveway. Parked midway between the building in which Noct hid and what looked to be the farm house.

Engines ticking off, the doors were flung open simultaneously, seven men piling out, expressions grim, focused. Definitely hunters on the prowl. But for them or the more normal prey?

"Okay, boys, you know the drill. Each pair take a building, keep your eyes open. His friend may be injured, but the would-be-King isn't, and whatever else you can say, he's no joke in a fight."

Well, that answered that. Noct tensed, debated. He had the element of surprise now, but even with his magic, seven on one wasn't great odds. If they managed to call reinforcements…

Glancing above him, Noct could only just barely make out the rafters looming above, lost in shadow. An easily warpable distance. Noct was cat-light as he landed on the wide beam, inched closer to wall. The boards of the slats were weathered enough he could peek outside, continuing to observe from the more secure vantage point.

The guy issuing orders looked on the older side. Rifle causally thrown over one shoulder, he sauntered between the two trucks, stopped to lean against the bumper of one, eyes roving over the surroundings. 

The other six fanned out in sets of twos. The first pair headed for the farmhouse, the other four in a closer bunch ambled in Noct's direction. Close enough he could still make out their quieter exchange. 

"Are we...sure about this? Dave really sanctioned it?" The speaker looked young, doubtful old enough to drink, let alone be carrying a gun. 

"I told ya to stop _asking!"_ another snapped. "What does it matter?"

"But…I mean…it's the _Prince_ we're talking about!"

A third voice sneered, "And what've the royals ever done for us? Abandoned us all to hole up in their fancy city, left the rest of the country to rot." Noct frowned. It wasn't the first time he'd heard such sentiments; he knew all the supposed rebuttals, even. But ever since leaving Insomnia, seeing the results of those decisions made and enacted long before he was born, Noct hadn't had the stomach to voice them. 

"But…y’know, recently…" the kid started again. "I mean, my uncle swears it was the Prince and his friends that saved him last month after his run-in with those coeurls."

"Maybe, maybe not. So they deign to help a few of us out. Too little too late. But the money the imperials promised is gonna go a long way. You think some obsolete noble's more important than our families and homes?"

"No, I just think, maybe—"

"Enough," The fourth guy, who'd been silent up till then, finally barked. "Ax, Remi, take this building. Eugene, with me. And you can drop the whining along the way, got it?"

The kid nodded meekly, turned to follow. The other two broke off in his direction, walked right below Noct without looking up.

In sync, one peeled off to the right, the other to the left, methodically weaving between the old abandoned equipment as they searched. Lucky for Noct, their methods overlooked the crucial concept of 'up'.

Even so, Noct hesitated. They were far enough apart, with the occasional crate or pillar between them, that Noct felt less than confident in executing an attack that would dispatch both before either could raise an alarm.

After an eternity—each second of which skyrocketing Noct's growing anxiety over his prolonged absence from Prompto's side—the man who'd headed right finally signaled he was going to duck into what Noct knew from his earlier explorations to be some kind of filing room. Shelf after shelf of binders, lists of old delivery receipts, harvest reports, and crop yield analysts strewn about. 

What it didn’t have was windows, no clear view of the main room. 

As the hunter disappeared within, his partner walked to the lip of the pit. Leaned awfully far over. And his buddy was fully out of sight now. Noct was in motion before the plan was fully formed. The warp strike was carefully aimed, one well-placed kick in the center of the man's back that sent him tumbling forward with a surprised shout. Noct had flipped around, warped back to his former hiding spot before the man's companion could even register the sound. 

"Remi, where'd you—oh shit!" Unfortunately the second guy was smarter, only ventured close enough to the edge to spot his friend far below before he whipped around, running back towards the entrance.

"Hal, quick, Remi's fallen!" He barely finished speaking before he once more passed beneath, returning inside.

Noct's nerves were shouting at him to 'move' but his instincts held him back as he watched the guy holster his weapon before beginning to climb down the single access ladder. Sure enough, a moment later, footfalls at the entrance heralded the arrival of the man who'd been stationed by the trucks. 

After a moment to take in what had happened, he too headed down with a loud swear. Noct watched as the first guy made it to his fallen companion, crouched to turn him over. Even from this distance, Noct could hear the groan as the injured man was shifted.

Noct couldn't help the twinge of relief. Since they'd struck out on their journey, facing one imperial ambush after another, none of them were strangers to taking another's life. But Noct never relished it. They may have betrayed them but these hunters were still Lucian citizens. If it came down to him or them, or more importantly, them or Prompto, there was no question where Noct's priorities would lay. But until then, knowing he hadn't actually killed the man was a comfort.

Noct was about to move when further sounds from outside had him hanging back once more. The two that had been sent to the farm house arrived a second later, calling for their friends. Only one started down the ladder, the other kneeling on the ledge to shout down, ask for orders.

Noct cocked his ear, but heard nothing further from outside. The last pair must have gone far enough out of range. Now or never.

No reason the same trick shouldn't work twice. The warp this time landed him directly behind the man. Noct kicked out even as he started to turn, watched him tumble down. His companions all whipped around, but were a hair too late.

Noct had already brought the flask to hand, tossing out the magic even as they brought their weapons to bare. 

He'd only had a few spells left. But one of them had thankfully been Thundara. Not only did it instantly stun all five of them, but Noct knew—all too well, unfortunately, from one particularly memorable training snafu—that any cellphones, radios or other electronics any of them had on their persons should now be well and truly fried. 

Listening to the string of low moans rising up from the gloom, Noct walked to the edge, peered down. Summoning the largest of his broadswords, a single blow was enough to knock the rickety ladder clean off the side, sending it crashing to the bottom of the tank. 

It wouldn't hold them forever, but there should be plenty of time to hotwire one of the trucks, get well away from here.

Just had to deal with the last two stragglers. 

With that in mind, Noct returned the sword to the armiger, pausing at the door before peering out. Best to stick to cover, sneak up on them if he could.

He was just debating which direction to head when he heard it. 

The all-too-familiar crack of a gunshot, echoing over the field. Coming from the direction of the silo.

Heart in his throat, Noct was a blur of motion as he pounded out into the open, all thoughts of stealth forgotten as his focus narrowed to a single thought: Prompto. 

To be Continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not...quite as much of a wait as last time. But still...whoops. Thanks to everyone who's still managed to stick with it! XD
> 
> And thank you for all the lovely comments, you all continue to be oh so wonderful, keep me going ^___^
> 
> Also, wound up [doing some art](https://gnine2.tumblr.com/post/621136768168755200/once-again-my-fic-writing-has-spilled-over-into-my), cause as I've mentioned before, when I'm focused on writing, it more often than not spills over into my art as well. 
> 
> [](https://gnine2.tumblr.com/post/621136768168755200/once-again-my-fic-writing-has-spilled-over-into-my)  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* I know, what even IS this? Bet most of you had given up on this fic (I almost had myself). But I felt so bad for leaving you all hanging, especially after people had been so supportive. Apologies for the wait, the second half of 2020 saw my creativity take a HARD plunge (can't IMAGINE why :-p) Writing non-existent, barely any drawing, whoops.
> 
> But here's to a better, more productive 2021. *fingers crossed*

Though Ignis's loathing could not hold a candle to Noctis's, he had never been overly fond of mornings, especially pre-coffee. Dragging oneself awake was never a pleasant task. Doing it from a drug-induced slumber, only to find oneself gagged and bound, Gladio beside him in an equally helpless state, made the whole endeavor downright excruciating.

The day—well on its way to being afternoon already, if the hazy light making its way through the one dirty window was any indication—saw little improvement over the next few hours.

They'd come to in what looked to be one of the old camper caravans that dotted the land. This one was stripped bare of all furnishings, including the faux-wooden paneling walls, leaving the steel beams of the frame exposed. A cross section to which their arms were tightly affixed.

Too tightly. His hands had been pressed flush together before being practically encased in rope. No room for air, let alone a weapon to be summoned to.

A single lone hunter sat by the door, gun draped casually across her lap, watching them calmly. She spoke only once, when she noticed Gladio's subtle but continuous flexing—an attempt to loosen the bonds.

"None of that. Just sit quiet-like." A jostle of her weapon punctuated the command.

With nothing to do but exchange increasingly emphatic silent conversations via glare with Gladio as the hours ticked by, Ignis fixated on the single glimmer of hope sparkling in this otherwise dismal day: neither Noct or Prompto had yet to be dragged through the rickety door.

Ignis's best guesses narrowed the reason for their detainment down to the two most likely possibilities: as bait or to prevent them from interfering with whatever plans they presumably had for Noctis. Any other target seemed statistically unlikely.

Whichever the reason was, the amount of time they'd been left to simply sit here and stew suggested that, as of yet, Noctis at least remained out of their grasp.

As for Prompto…Ignis had been very carefully trying _not_ to think about him. Had found himself avoiding doing so even before awakening to their current predicament. Because every time his thoughts strayed in that direction, they were overridden by the memory of how pale, how absolutely _still_ Prompto had looked in Gladio's arms as they'd pulled into Taelpar and dashed for the clinic, for whatever aid they could get, because the last potion hadn't done nearly enough.

The medic had assured them Prompto was stable before Ignis and Gladio had headed out. And Noctis had texted even as they'd been sitting down to the fateful dinner which would lead to their downfall that Prompto had regained consciousness.

But seeing as _these_ hunters, that had gone from companion to captor over the course of one meal, had been friends with the same ones that had been aiding in Prompto's treatment, the odds that his recovery had continued on the projected trajectory were…less than good.

Sometime around dusk, a flurry of activity arose from outside—muffled shouts, slamming doors and the revving of engines. With a warning glare, their guard stepped out. Only for a moment—barely long enough for their full heaving at the bonds to confirm they were going nowhere any time soon.

The woman was grinning upon her return and settled back into her chair with an entirely unhelpful but far too ominous, "Shouldn't be long now," before returning to her uncommunicative state.

With the sun fully down and the anti-daemon floodlights kicking on, the passage of time became even harder to judge. But Ignis guessed at least an hour had gone by, possibly closer to two, before the rumble of an approaching vehicle broke the silence.

The sound of excited voices, words indistinguishable through the wall. A laugh. And then the door crashed open, two more hunters crowding in, a third figure dragged between them.

A figure with his head down, face hidden. But the messy mop of blond hair was unmistakable.

Ignis felt Gladio stiffen beside him, his own shoulders tensing in rage.

The way they hauled him over, dropping him to the floor— sacks of potatoes received gentler treatment—sent Ignis's blood boiling faster than a kettle on a high burner. Straining, Ignis could just make out the pained huff—somewhere between a moan and a whimper—as Prompto thudded to the floor.

Beyond that single sound, no other indication of life, let alone consciousness, came from his unmoving form.

Despite a sudden resurgence of their fight against the ropes, Ignis remained helpless to do more than glare as the two hunters nodded at their ever-present guard before shuffling back out.

The bit of dingy light provided by the single bare, still-working bulb left much to be desired, but was enough to allow Ignis to do a general assessment of Prompto. His already aching jaw—the gag had started uncomfortable and become downright painful over the long hours— clenching vise-tight at what he saw.

Prompto had landed with his back mostly to them, face hidden by the curve of his shoulder. But the various rents and tears in the medical scrubs he still wore, what looked to be a couple leaves and twigs in his hair, and a few splotches of dirt on his bare arms, spoke of the kind of day he'd had to this point.

He still, thankfully, had the brace they'd fitted him with on his leg, though that too look scuffed and frayed. And his hands, though not secured above his head like their own, looked to be bound just as tight. 

Noct willingly abandoning Prompto in this state, in _any_ state, was highly unlikely. Which did not bode well for what circumstances led to their separation.

Gladio's worried gaze mirrored Ignis's own fears as their eyes met briefly. Prompto's presence, however, changed little of what they could do, which remained exactly nothing.

If Ignis had thought the afternoon had crept by slowly, now the seconds truly inched along.

Which was why the sudden extinguishing of all the lights, interior and exterior, took so long to register, completely at odds with the pace of their imprisonment.

A few shouts broke the silence, calling for explanation. Not panicked yet, but tinged with the inevitable worry that darkness brought in all daemon-infested areas.

After another minute, a hurried pounding sounded on the door. "Laura, the generator's smoking, and the backup's not coming on. We need everyone on daemon watch while Callum fixes 'em."

Cursing, their guard rose with a snarled, "Don't even _think_ of trying anything," before stomping out to join her fellow hunters.

The door had barely clicked shut before Ignis was squirming in his bonds, could feel Gladio doing the same beside him.

Beyond the perfect opportunity, the very real danger that any daemon presented them in their incapacitated state made immediate escape all the more imperative. They were sitting ducks like this, with already proven hostile hunters the only thing between them and all the threats of Eos nights.

Ignis was moving enough, twisted around to try to get some leverage from the wall behind him, that he missed the sound of approach.

The voice in his ear would have sent him jumping knee-high if not for his trussed state; it took him a second longer to realize he recognized it.

"So," Prompto murmured, familiar cheer all too clear in his tone. As Ignis's eyes adjusted to the scant moonlight filtering in, he could just make out the pale smudge that was Prompto's face, a hands-breadth from his own. He was on his knees and in his very much _untied_ hands there gleamed one of Ignis's own daggers. "Who's up for a bit of rescue?"

*****

Noct hated this plan.

Remaining unmoving from his hiding place, which offered a field of view just large enough to see how roughly they manhandled Prompto, took every fiber of control he possessed. Even as he bit back the growl and kept a tight grip on his anger, he cataloged every detail, tallied the number of hunters he could see or hear—seven, and at least one more within the trailer they hauled Prompto to, from the way his captors spoke upon arrival.

It was only a quick glance, across the length of the camp and from a bad angle, but Gladio's tattooed arms, hoisted above his head, were unmistakable. And beyond him, an elbow clothed in Ignis's preferred coeurl purple print. So they were both here, just as their unlikely ally had suggested.

Even so, and despite the run of very unexpected good luck of the last few hours, Noct still _hated_ this plan. Had hated it the moment he'd heard it. _Before_ he'd heard it, even, when it was just a faint sparkle in Prompto's fever-glazed eyes, the gleam of impending trouble all too recognizable even in his precarious state.

Unfortunately, as had been true for much of the last twenty-four hours, a better option failed to present itself.

Hours past, as Noct had arrived back at the silo, panting from his mad dash, fearing to find Prompto pinned down, further injured, captured—or worse—Noct had been entirely unprepared for the sight that actually greeted him:

The teenage hunter—Eugene—standing over his prone companion, immediately throwing his hands up in surrender while Prompto hoarsely called from above to hold on, stand down. That the kid had just saved him, knocked out his companion when the other had opened fire on the rafters, on Prompto.

Even if Noct took such actions at face value, trusting the kid was a hard pill to swallow after the bitter betrayals of the past few days. Every instinct Noct had screamed at him to incapacitate this threat as well, grab Prompto, hotwire whichever vehicle looked fastest, and _run._ It would be the safest bet. Except…

"…I think I can help you find your other friends."

And with that offer verbalized, all other options became moot. Noct froze, momentarily blindsided by the yearning to have them four again, to have Ignis and Gladio back where they belonged, warring with the need to keep Prompto safe.

He started again at the sound of movement above, Prompto attempting to descend the stairs alone. His shaking discernable even from where Noct stood, with a death grip on the rickety railing, pale but for the high flush in his cheeks. Using the bit of spare breath he had between labored gasps to bombard the young hunter with immediate questions.

Even if Noct wanted to flee, to see Prompto secure before making any wild moves—Prompto clearly had other plans.

Noct should have realized then that leaving them alone, for even a few minutes, was a mistake. But he'd wanted throw the unconscious hunter in with his brethren, confirm that none of the others had yet to awaken or escape.

Noct had left the kid tied, with Prompto reluctantly sitting—Noct had had to force him on to the bench after supporting him down the rest of the stairs—gun at ready. With the intention of _watching_ their new prisoner.

Instead Noct returned to Prompto chatting animatedly with the kid, with his gun left forgotten on the bench beside him, looking far too eager considering how much he was swaying where he sat, hunched in a way that spoke volumes of how much his injuries were bothering him, even doing nothing more than sitting and talking.

Prompto had been quick to fill him in on all he'd learned. The kid didn't know where Gladio or Ignis had been taken—not very helpful—but somehow in the short span of Noct's absence, they'd plotted a likely, if maybe a 'bit' risky—oh joy—way of finding out. Of course it would require one of them to act as bait, let himself be 'captured'—so many red flags—and that person would logically be—

"Abso-fucking-lutely not. Shiva will dance in Ifrit's halls before I let you go in alone, in your current condition."

Prompto glared. "Aren't you listening? Just a single hunter bringing _you_ in would be too suspicious! But me? In this state? And besides, I'm not going to really be alone, you'll be right there with me—"

"In some smuggler's hold, hoping they don't think to check over the truck?"

"What possible reason would they? It's their own truck. And with me already detained—"

"Which would mean you spending potentially _hours_ tied up and—"

" _Fake_ tied-up—"

"—it's going to have to look pretty damn real, which means—"

"—a walk in the park, after last night's escapades. I can—"

"—you're not—"

"E-excuse me?"

Both Prompto and Noct snapped their mouths shut, turned. Eugene scrunched down at their sudden focus. "M-my bag." He nodded to the discarded item, removed as he'd surrendered himself.

Noct glared, but leaped ahead as Prompto made a move for it, pushed him back down with one hand while reaching for the bag with the other. Flipped it open, cautiously. His breath caught at the revealed contents.

Noct heard Prompto's own inhale as he peered over his shoulder. Prompto's swallow was audible, his voice taking on a forced tone, playing up sudden confusion. "Some, uh, energy drinks, don't see what's so—"

Noct ripping them from the bag, magic already glowing in his hand, cut off Prompto's attempt at obfuscation. What was the point in keeping what Noct could do with these secret when it was clear the kid already had some inkling. And…even if it was a coincidence, and he didn't…Noct couldn't bring himself to care at this point.

All he cared about was the soon-to-be potions now in his possession. All the bottles were previously opened, partially drunk. But combined they'd amount to a full one, closer to two. And even more importantly, there, nestled at the bottom of the lot—apparently at least one of the hunters had some spare cash to blow. Because that, that was what he needed to make an elixir. At least a partial one.

All that mattered was that very quickly, just the time it took Noct to marshal his focus and infuse the precious liquids with his magic, Noct finally, _finally_ had something to combat the obviously rising feverish flush over Prompto's cheeks, to ease the pain lines bracketing his mouth. Could maybe get Prompto to the point his breath didn't continuously hitch, catching slightly on every inhale and exhale.

Everything else…they could deal with later.

The reaction was near instantaneous, the constant tension in Prompto's shoulders releasing so suddenly Noct had to hastily catch him one-handed to stabilize him, even as he followed the partial elixir with the potion.

Prompto's head came to rest on Noct's shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. But only for a moment, before he inhaled deeply—deeper than he'd been managing since he'd first woken in the clinic.

"Astrals!" Noct just barely caught the heartfelt murmur. Twisted so he could peer fully at Prompto's face.

"Better?"

"Much."

Noct nodded, gently pushed Prompto back upright against the wall, reaching for the brace. Prompto hissed, jerking away.

Better, but still a long way to go to one hundred percent. Noct had known, logically, even before the insanity of last night, that it was doubtful even a single full elixir would have done the trick; two had been expected. Not even a half of one…

"Prompto—"

"It's fine…" At Noct's glare he hastily jumped tracks. "Okay, no, not fine. But seriously, worlds better. Fever's down, and feels like the wound is gone, it's just the bone—"

"There's no 'just' about it. A broken bone is not something to shrug off."

Prompto sighed, shook his head. "Normally? Probably not, but right now? Under the circumstances, it's an Astrals-given miracle. One we're sure as hells not wasting."

Prompto turned away before Noct could protest further, addressed the kid. "Thanks. So much! Like….a ridiculous, ridiculous amount."

The relief, the lightness in Prompto's tone, compared to the strain of only a few minutes before— contrast as stark as moving from a dim room to a bright sunny day—highlighted the misery that had suffused Prompto's voice since he'd first awoken back in Taelpar. Unmissably demonstrated the difference the curatives were already making…and just how much Prompto had been suffering without them.

"Not to sound ungrateful, because…yeeah, but gotta ask, how'd you know?"

Eugene smiled. "There's a lot of stories told around hunters' campfires, holdovers from before the wall shrunk, when Crownsguard fought on the front lines. Of the Royal line's magic, and just what it can do. But, y'know, rumors, never know what to believe…until you saved my uncle. He thought he was a goner, barely conscious, but he swore it was you lot that got him to safety. And when he awoke there, the wound that had near killed him completely healed."

Honestly, it could have been one of half a dozen hunters they'd helped in the past few months. But that didn't matter in the end, apparently hadn't been enough to keep him from turning them in.

"And yet, when the time came, he just, what, looked the other way?"

Eugene shook his head, eyes downcast. "No…or…I…don't think so. But I don't know…no, I do, I _know_ in my heart he wouldn't do this, would hate it as much as I do but. But…I can't _ask_. Can't ask him, or Dave or most of the other higher-ups."

Prompto perked up, exchanged a look with Noct. "So…Dave didn't order this?"

"No…I don't believe it. They _said_ he did.…but the timing. To turn on you when it just so happens Dave, and most of his inner circle, are all deep in Keycatrich Trench, unreachable—awful big coincidence, doncha think?"

Though in the immediate, it mattered little, a huge wave of relief still swept over Noct. There was hope that maybe not _all_ their allies had turned, that their judge of character hadn't been that off. So far, both in Taelpar and the hunters locked away in the other barn, none of the individuals were anyone Noct recalled having direct contact with before. A few he'd heard of, by reputation, but no one they had worked with, had personally aided.

Their betrayal was impersonal. Turning against an absent monarch, rather than a comrade in arms, felt less harsh, easier to parse.

"Which is why I believe, if you can get to your friends, and I can just keep the rest distracted long enough…Dave and the others. As soon as they get back, they'll make sure this doesn't happen again. Ever."

He'd been around the kid for only a handful of minutes, but even so, the grim look in his eyes, conviction in his tone, was hard to doubt.

It clearly convinced Prompto.

In return for his help, all Eugene asked was for them to spare the other hunters' lives, and to give Dave and the rest a chance to right what had been wronged. Neither Noct nor Prompto had been particularly keen on killing anyone to begin with. And if it meant both getting Ignis and Gladio back and maintaining overall peace with the hunters...Noct knew the benefits outweighed the risk of trusting again. If only his gut could swallow the logic his head was feeding it.

If only the next steps of said deal didn't involve practically handing Prompto—a still _hurting_ Prompto—over to these assholes.

"Noct…you said earlier…that you saw me as real Crownsguard, that you trusted me at your back. Trust that I can handle this. For Gladio and Ignis, what other choice do we have?"

Not a damn one.

Which left Noct climbing into a cramped compartment hidden beneath the truck bed—hunter ingenuity to circumvent Imperial blockades now working against them—and letting Eugene drive them to Noct's original target of Coernix Station to place his call. Together the three of them had spun a convincing tale for him to tell: A near miss with the Prince, who'd just barely slipped away in an attempt to draw them away from his hurt companion. But of course, experienced hunters that they were, they'd seen through it.

They had succeeded in capturing the prince's hurt friend, but Noctis had fled, with the rest of the hunters in hot pursuit. Though sans their phones, as the 'tricky kingling' had used some kind of electricity magic, damaged them. Always good to place a kernel of truth at the heart of a fanciful lie. Eugene had been tasked with finding a way to contact their allies to hand over their captive and bring in further backup to tighten the net around the Prince.

Just as Eugene had predicted, he'd been given a rendezvous point partway, the masterminds behind this betrayal loathe to divulge the base camp to the majority of their allies. Once they met up, one hunter switched with the kid, driving their 'captive'—and stowaway—back to their camp, while Eugene lead them off on his planned wild daggerquill chase in what he swore would be a random direction, as far away as possible from both the hunter camp and the farm where they'd left the others still imprisoned.

By the time the truck pulled into what looked like a classic hunter field camp base, and Noct's patience was rewarded a few minutes later with a clear view of his friends, alive and together, his distrust of Eugene had all but evaporated.

With everything in close proximity quiet, Noct slipped from his hiding spot, rolling from under the truck silently.

They'd been in and around enough similar hunter encampments to guess at an approximate layout, and with Eugene's added insights, they'd formulated the best plan of attack.

A quick slash of the tires disabled every vehicle except for the one Noct had arrived and planned to depart in. Next, with full night fallen, the generators— and more importantly the anti-daemon lights they powered—were the obvious target for creating the most chaos. The perfect distraction.

The woods were dense around the small clearing the camp had been set up in, made it easy for Noct to circle in the darkness, beyond the treeline but before the ring of anti-daemon floods pointing out into the woods. He kept a careful eye on the visible figures spread about the camp as he warped from shadow to shadow. Three around a small cooking fire, fourth and fifth under a canopy, fiddling with what looked to be radio equipment.

Six and seven, after dropping Prompto in the trailer, had gone over to a second, slightly less shabby camper. Noct could just make out their silhouettes moving about inside.

It didn't take Noct long to find the generators, chugging away behind the far trailer. Their position kept him mostly shielded him from the line of sight of the majority of the camp.

Popping open the side of the backup, he set about detaching a handful or random wires. Enough to take it out, but easy enough to repair for someone with the knowhow. Noct needed a quick distraction, but had no intention of leaving themselves or the hunters undefended from the daemons for longer than necessary. Doing a quick visual scout of the area for the next phase of the plan, Noct took a deep breath, summoned Hardedge and cleaved the main generator near in two, sparks flying.

As the miniature firework show faded, the camp was left in almost complete darkness, save for the dwindling campfire casting a few deep, dancing shadows.

Warping up and back, high into a tree to wait, Noct had a clear view of both the generators and the door to his friends' makeshift prison. It didn't take long, the first curses only moments later, followed by the pounding of footsteps and the bouncing of a high-powered flashlight. The swearing increased in volume as the wreck of the generator came into view. Got more creative when the backup failed to kick in, even after repeated flicking of the on switch.

Nerves screaming, Noct once more exercised restraint , letting the hunter below call for aid. The rest of the camp—including, yes! the one keeping watch on Ignis, Gladio and Prompto—fanned out, creating a loose circle around the camp, flashlights held high, peering into the darkness, alert for any encroaching daemon threat.

"This…this looks like some kinda blade hacked it apart. If I didn't know better, I'd swear an Iron Giant somehow made it past the lights, took it out!" The hunter's shouted update was loud enough to carry to everyone in the camp.

More swearing. Noct could see them tense even further. It went without saying that if an Iron Giant was strong enough to make it that far despite the lights, then without them, there would be nothing stopping it.

Though Noct knew himself to blame for the damage below, the threat of daemon attack remained real nonetheless, equally dangerous to him as it was to the hunters. He divided his own attention, one eye peeled for daemon as well.

"Looks like a wire or two just came loose on the backup. It'll be just a sec….there!"

A moment later, the bright floods kicked on behind Noct, once more illuminating the woods beyond.

That was his cue. He just hoped he'd bought enough time.

With a flick of his wrist, his dagger was planted in a low-hanging branch over the hunter's shoulder just as the man began to close the case on the generator.

The hunter had just enough time to glance up with a muffled "Wha—" and Noct was on him, knee to the back taking him to the ground easily. He didn't bother trying to stay quiet; the more attention they attracted the better. Thankfully not one but two of the other hunters had been keeping their companion in their line of sight as he worked, and let out twin shouts of alarm as they dashed over.

Noct was up and spinning immediately, pelting back into the woods, but not before he made sure that at least one of them got a good look, flashlight beam panning across his figure.

"Hells, it’s the Prince! He must be here for his friends, don't let him get away!!"

Noct made certain to make as much noise as possible, keeping his steps heavy. And just slow enough they could keep pace fairly easily while not actually catching up. He had enough of a head start to maintain the ideal distance he wanted.

After a few minutes, the slight rush of water to his right grabbed his attention. Perfect. Putting on a burst of speed, he readied another dagger, threw it high just as he hit the river's edge. The trees grew tall here, branches still thick enough to support his weight even this high off the ground.

Freezing, breath held, he didn't have long to wait.

Six men and women—dammit, he'd hoped to entice them all, hopefully these still siphoned enough away for the others—skidded to a halt at the water's edge, cursing. "Astrals! Fan out. Someone check how easy it would have been for him to cross!"

As soon as they were far enough apart, the noise of the water covering any sound that their frantic shouts failed to, Noct warped again, doubling back the way he'd just come. He threw this dagger the absolute furthest his magic would allow to put as much space between him and his pursuers while maintaining stealth. After two more long warps, with no sounds of close pursuit, backtracking ruse apparently yet discovered, Noct breathed a sigh. Hopefully it would hold long enough they'd be well away before the hunters realized they'd been had.

The light of the floods guided him back to camp. Their tall frames could just be made out looming over the trees when the distinct thud of heavy footfalls heading straight for him brought Noct to a halt, sword ready.

Only to let out a relieved laugh as Gladio's all-too-distinct silhouette appeared from behind a tree.

"Noct!" Gladio's relief rang clear.

"The _plan_ was for you to head out as soon as you got free, that I'd catch up. Didn't Prompto say?"

Gladio grinned. "Must have slipped his mind Besides, we had a couple stragglers to wrangle. While Ignis is hotwiring the truck and Prompto was finishing securing 'em, I figured I'd see what was taking you so long."

"Wait, you left Prompto _alone_ to deal with them?!"

Gladio's brow furrowed as he glanced back. "I mean, they were mostly unconscious. He was just tying them up—"

Noct swore, darted past, making for the main part of camp.

Gladio was only a step behind. "What? Seriously, they're down for the count, I'm sure he can handle—"

"He shouldn't have to!" Noct barked, tossing a glare over his shoulder. "Not in his state! _"_

Gladio's protest was all confusion. "What _state?_ …He said you got curatives—I thought he…" But Gladio trailed off before Noct could correct the misconception, at the sight of Prompto braced against the trailer, breath coming in heaves, gun out but dangling at his side, clearly taking all his concentration just to stay standing.

"You said you were _healed_!" Gladio's accusation had Prompto glancing up sheepishly.

"Uh, hey…guys successfully detained. Hunters lead astray?"

Noct's only answer was a grimace, accompanied by a burst of speed as he watched Prompto's legs begin to buckle.

Gladio beat him by a handbreadth, catching Prompto under the elbow before he completely toppled.

"You said you were _better_!" Gladio growled, though Noct could see how careful his grip was as he joined them on Prompto's other side. With Prompto propped between them, they began a hasty shuffle towards the sudden roar of an engine. Ignis had unsurprisingly succeeded in getting the truck started.

Prompto chuckled from between them. "And I am. So sooooo much better, you wouldn't believe." If Noct didn't know differently, it'd be all too easy to mistake for drunkenness the blatant relief of a successful rescue combined with his now semi-healed state, so giddy was his tone.

Gladio frowned down, glanced away to meet Noct's eye's with a worried quirk of his eyebrow.

Noct sighed. "It's been a long twenty-four hours." Prompto giggle-snorted what sounded a lot like 'understatement.' Noct rolled his eyes. " _Really_ long."

Prompto was sagging, most of his weight left to Gladio and Noct by the time they made it to the truck and began piling inside.

The passenger side door was open, the seat leaned forward to allow access to the back. Noct didn't miss the way Ignis's eye's raked over him as they arrived. Brow furrowed as he moved his gaze to Prompto and the way he clearly needed Gladio's assistance to hoist himself up into the back, Noct guiding him from the position he'd already taken behind Ignis's seat.

"Prompto! Are you—is he alright?"

Gladio grunted. "Turns out he _may_ have lied about just how many curatives he and Noct found."

"I never actually _said_ how many. It was more of an implication that you just so happened to misinter—" Prompto's defense was cut off by a whimper as he folded his leg to accommodate the cramped back seat.

Noct froze. "Maybe you should take the front, more room."

Prompto shook his head, eyes closed. "M'good. And if we need to fight, better to have Gladio there."

The logic was sound, and Ignis had them moving before the door was barely shut.

"Prompto said the plan was to head for Wiz's with all due haste?"

Noct murmured his assent even as he reached to help Prompto settle, sliding him close against Noct's chest to allow him to stretch his leg over the seat as much as the small space would allow.

Eugene's best guest had been both Wiz, as well as Ralph, the hunter who usually hung around the chocobo farm, were out of the loop. Those in charge had warned the others to make sure Noct and Prompto had specifically not headed in that direction, repeated it numerous times.

No surprise, Eugene said, as everyone knew how enamored Wiz was of their group ever since they'd protected his birds taking out Deadeye.

Noct had felt another small jolt of hope upon hearing it. At least they'd made a difference to _someone_ out here. At this point, Noct would take the comfort where he could.

****

Prompto woke to the sensation of being lifted, a cool breeze blowing over his skin as the sound of a car door slamming nearby echoed in his ears.

"Wha?" He tried to shift, only for the arms that held him to squeeze tighter. The jolt of panic immediately subsided at Gladio’s familiar voice rumbled near his ear, “"S'okay, go back to sleep, we got this."

Blinking heavy lids open, the familiar yellow canopy of the chocobo post fluttered clearly in the pre-dawn light, a dizzying whirl from this angle.

Prompto wanted to protest, he could totally walk…except, honestly…he was pretty sure he'd be proven a liar if Gladio actually took him up on the suggestion. His leg felt worlds better compared to yesterday, but it had started to throb again once they were on the road. With the adrenaline wearing off, how much the further strains of the night had undone what the partial elixir had begun to mend was revealed.

Also to consider was Noct walking a few paces away, eyes trained on him. The look of exhausted frustration he leveled as Prompto began to squirm spoke volumes.

Prompto gave in, let his eyes fall shut again, vaguely aware of Wiz’s friendly greeting, hailing them as they entered the shop. Ignis was speaking, tone low, Noct’s voice joined him, but Prompto was too tired to focus. Allowed the gentle susurration of familiar voices drag him back into slumber.

The next time he surfaced, it was to soft blankets against his skin, a delicious aroma tickling his nose and the gentle familiar breathing of someone sleeping close by. And no pain. At all.

The last was enough to have his eyes snapping open, hauling himself gingerly to sitting. The motion brought no twinge from his ribs, or screams of protest from his limbs. Even his head had given up on its ambition to become a percussion band.

The room was unfamiliar, cozy, with a single large bed, of which Noct squeezed in beside him took up less than half. Still asleep despite Prompto’s sudden flailing.

Throwing back the covers, Prompto was about to stand when the door creaked open, a whistling Gladio striding through, grin blooming across his face as he took in Prompto.

“Ah finally! Told Ignis there was nothing like the smells of his cooking to rouse even such determined sleepers as the pair of you.” His eyes flicked to Noct, smirk growing. “Well, one of you at least.”

“How long have I been out?”

“We arrived around dawn and it's gonna be a late dinner, so, you do the math. How you feeling?”

“Uh…great?” His stomach chose that moment to voice its complaints at its empty state. “Hungry. But otherwise…amazing! Elixirs?”

Gladio nodded. “Wiz was happy to spot us a couple of the drinks on credit. And then Ralph came by a couple hours ago with a whole stack of supplies and some profuse apologies. Apparently Dave, freshly back from Keycatrich trench and up to speed, had called him with a few orders with regards to us. Called Noct as well, with a truckload of apologies. Swears he’s gonna make it right.”

Prompto felt a loosening in his shoulders, his jaw relaxing as the anxiety that had settled in from the moment Noct had frantically awoken him in Taelpar melted away. He’d wanted to believe Eugene, had known the kid believed it. But it was still an enormous weight lifted, to know they hadn’t made enemies of everyone out here, maybe not even the majority.

“And the Regalia?” Prompto asked.

Gladio nodded. “On its way to us, should be here by tomorrow evening.”

The breath came out of him in a rush. “So we’re good with them, then?”

Gladio hesitated, grimaced. “Tentatively.”

“Why tentatively? I mean, lost a few days to inconvenience, sure. But to come out of it well stocked, with Dave set to get into our good graces. Sounds like a pretty fair trade to me. No harm, no foul, right?”

“No _harm?!”_ Noct’s hiss echoed in the room as he threw himself to sitting, glare boring into Prompto as he turned to his now awake friend. Prompto blinked, frowned, glancing from Noct to Gladio.

“I mean, yeah, we're gonna have to watch out in the future for possibly rogue enterprising hunters. And what they may feed us. Wait—” Prompto turned back to Gladio, a thought striking him. "You and Ignis, I thought you were fine last night, but, you didn't hide anything from me? You're both okay, right—"

Gladio coughed. “I think he means you.”

Prompto gave himself another once-over, rolling to his feet. His leg didn’t even feel stiff, let alone in pain. “Nope, I’m good.” Gave a little hop to prove it. And just because he could. Fought off a giddy laugh at how good just that simple act felt.

Gladio watched the performance carefully, rolled his eyes at the final jump. Prompto turned back to Noct…and his stormy expression, unchanged except for perhaps a bit of lightening of the clouds in his eyes.

“But you _weren’t_. And their actions made it so much worse. Because of them, you had to—”

“Noct, dude, it’s honestly no big deal. It’s fine—”

“Don’t,” Noct spat, word as sharp as the blades he carried.

Prompto trailed off, jaw clicking shut. Glanced at Gladio. The answering shrug and furrowed brow were less than helpful. Back to Noct. “Don’t….what?”

Noct growled, jumped to his feet to plant himself directly in Prompto’s path, eyes hard, determined. “Dismiss your own suffering as trivial.”

Prompto swallowed, the dryness of his mouth suddenly overpowering. It was his saving grace. Because otherwise he might have blurted his instinctual reply of “But it is?” From the way Noct’s gaze hardened, Prompto felt like he somehow heard it anyway.

Prompto looked away first, hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Okay, yes, last couple days kinda sucked…but like. Hunter allies? Super important!”

“So are you!” Noct snapped back.

“I…um…oh.” Prompto deflated. The silence in the room was heavy, only broken by the quiet ticking of the bedside clock. And what sounded like a light tread on the stairs.

A moment later, Ignis’s voice sounded from the hall. “Gladio, any luck? Food is on the table—oh.”

His sharp glance took in the silent tableau. Adjusting his glasses, eyebrow raised, he asked, “Am I interrupting?”

Prompto swung to his sudden savior. “Ignis, convince Noct that we can’t alienate the hunters as a whole just 'cause I had a couple lousy days.”

Ignis regarded him coolly for a moment before turning to Noct. “While I agree we obviously still have a long way to go on Prompto's self-assessment and self-worth issues—”

“Hey,” Prompto couldn’t help the indignant squawk.

“He is also correct that pushing away all hunters on account of this transgression is…shortsighted.”

“They turned on us, when we were at are most vulnerable! When they _knew_ how bad off Prompto was. They drugged and _kidnapped_ you!”

Gladio snorted. “Yeah, not our finest hour. Not theirs either. But it's not all hunters. Not even the majority of them. We can’t—”

“I _know_ ,” Noct barked. “I just…I…” His voice dwindled, force and volume become mere shadows of a moment prior. “It’s my fault. I should have known not to trust them, shouldn’t have let you go off with them, should have—”

“Become a mind reader?” Prompto snarked.

Noct's voice petered out. Then: “…what?”

“Dude, _none_ of us saw it coming. Dave and the other hunters, who should know their people way better than us, didn’t see it coming. How were you supposed to? And if you’re looking for blame, we all know we wouldn’t have been in such a, as you put it, 'vulnerable' position to begin with, if I hadn’t—"

“No, Prompto.” Ignis stepped forward. “You had just been doing your duty. And Noct, if you're going to look at it that way, you know it's _my_ job to notice these signs, to advise you."

“Yeah, and some shield I am. Absent when needed, getting jumped by a few renegade hunters,” Gladio groused from the corner. “If we really want to talk responsibilities and blame, then—”

“Time out!” Prompto shouted, overriding them all. “Okay, so as entertaining as we all know the blame game isn’t, I’m calling a moratorium on it.”

They all opened their mouths, but he steamrolled over them. “At least until _after_ we eat. Because I don’t know about you three, but I for one am _starving!_ ” Prompto sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, did we all mess up? Maybe.” Prompto had his own opinion on that one. But the needs of his stomach combined with the overwhelming desire to not have to hear any of them continuing to try to cover for his own shortcomings lent his voice strength.

“Since leaving Insomnia, pretty sure we’ve all made our share of mistakes.” Some shares were bigger than others, but Prompto was trying, and that was unfortunately the most he could do about it at this stage. “And we’re going to probably keep doing so because if you haven’t noticed, our luck tends to unfortunately run in that direction.”

Prompto forced a smile, found it fairly easy, in the face of all three of his friends—whole and united—standing before him. “But right now, what my nose is telling me is Ignis’s ridiculously delicious Meldacio meat pie is growing cold because we’re up here arguing when we could be _eating_.”

Gladio chuckled. “Someone’s hungry.”

“By my count, it's been well over a day, so sue me.”

Noct tried to maintain the pout, but Prompto knew him far too well to miss the tug of a smile on his lips. Gladio and Ignis didn't even bother trying to hide it, the former's grin as he gave Prompto a smack on his shoulder almost blinding.

Ignis nodded, turning to lead their procession back downstairs, Gladio falling into pace behind.

Prompto took a step to follow, turned back to Noct, who had yet to move, eyes lowered.

"Noct? Seriously, you know none of us blame you for this."

Noct's voice was low, barely a whisper. "You probably should."

"Yeah, and you probably shouldn't have ever been allowed to invite me along. But here we are. Remember what we said, no regrets."

Noct glanced up at that, smiled wryly. "Pretty sure I said I had a _ton_ of regrets."

"Yeah, well, then let's not add to 'em! Gotta let it go. Kay?" Prompto met his eyes, grinning unabashedly until Noct's expression pulled into a mirror of his own.

"Race you to the table?" Noct was already moving before his words had registered on Prompto, who dove after him with a squawked 'No fair!'. But the laughter that echoed down the stairs, mixing with Gladio and Ignis's own exclamations of indignation as they collided on the way, was unburdened.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who made it to the end, and all your kind responses along the (verrrry long, whoops ^__-) way, you rock!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be totally honest, no clue how long this is gonna be. As I said at the beginning, it's mainly just an excuse to pile on the h/c. If anyone has any scenarios they'd like to see that would fit into this set-up, feel free to toss 'em out. While I have a general plan for where it's heading and the eventual conclusion, there's room for a lot of side-whump along the way. No guarantees, my muse is fickle enough on the best of days, but one never knows from what and where inspiration will strike its fancy XD. 
> 
> As always, much thanks goes to Xparrot for being the bestest sister, beta and shelter-in-place buddy. 
> 
> Feel free to join me on [Tumblr](https://gnine2.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/Gnine2), for whatever randomness there is to be had, always love the company.


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